


Supplementary Lessons

by Star_tDash



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dancing, F/F, Featuring dancing disaster lesbians!, My foray into Fire Emblem!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 09:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20424020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_tDash/pseuds/Star_tDash
Summary: Marianne, who is chosen as the Golden Deer's representative for the White Heron Cup, receives a bit of tutelage from one of her fellow housemates.





	Supplementary Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, this was really fun and a nice change of pace from what I'm used to!
> 
> This was also sorta based on the fact that I made Marianne my dancer because she lucked out and had an AMAZING charm stat! (and the fact that I got the hildanne ending but that's besides the fact--)

“And perfect! Just like me~” 

Raising her hands in victory, Hilda lifted her newest creation into the air. The product itself was something that even she was surprised with; an ornate hoop earring studded with gemstones for Claude. With a satisfied huff, Hilda admired her own handiwork in the torchlight. _ Goddess, the church should throw me into jail for being _ ** _this_ ** _ talented AND _ ** _this_ ** _ sexy! _

Giving herself a satisfied nod, Hilda gingerly placed the jewelry into a well cushioned box, taking extra care to seal it as to make sure that the recently bent bezels would not bend out of shape. “And now for a little ribbon on top; yellow might be nice, but it might be a bit overd--”

“W-Woah!” **Crash!**

From the other side of the wall she was facing, Hilda pondered about what all the commotion was about; Marianne was adjacent to her room on this side, and in most cases, was as silent as, well, Marianne usually was.

And while Hilda wasn’t much using someone who took initiative, the fact that it was Marianne of all people was reasoning enough for her to go and investigate. Because she was her classmate of course. Her gorgeous and kind classmate. Neatly tucking her chair back into her desk, Hilda made her way up the small set of stairs and overheard the sounds of panicked shuffling behind the thin wooden door.

**knock knock knock**

“Marianne? You in there?”

“KYAA! W-Who is that?”

Hilda sighed, “it’s just Hilda; you OK in there?”  
“I am doing alright, yes, please do not worry about me.”

_ Wow, way to be both polite and suspicious. _ Hilda weighed her options; on one hand ,she could just heed Marianne’s wishes, and continue procrastinating on her upcoming exams. On the other hand, there was no telling if Marianne might have hurt herself and chosen not to let anyone worry out of fear, which not only would be bad for her, but might spell doom at a more critical moment. Hilda sighed as she rapped the door lightly, “I just wanted to check up on you; do you need help?”

“I-I… I--”

Hilda waited patiently as the girl on the other side pondered her request. And after a few minutes, Marianne gingerly opened the door a few inches, peeking her eyes through the small crack. “Promise you won’t say a thing?”

“Promise.” Taking a hesitant step back, Hilda watched as Marianne’s door opened, letting her see exactly what the cause of the commotion was. And while a toppled over stack of books were clearly the culprit, the more interesting thing that Hilda seemed to notice was the current layout of Marianne’s dorm. Almost all the girls belongings were shoved into various corners of the small living space, making room for a rudimentary opening, perfect for--

“I-I’ve been practicing for the White Heron Cup…” Marianne explained, sheepishly pushing a book back to its pile, “I still don't really know why Professor has granted me this task, but in order not to let down our class a-and to not look like a complete failure, I’ve been trying my hardest to practice here…”

“I’m sure you’re not _ that _ bad at dancing; Margrave Edmund had to have taken you to one of those snobbish noble dances where all they do is spin in circles and shag in the garden mazes, right?” The moment she saw Marianne’s poor face contort into fear at the very mention of Margrave Edmund, Hilda wanted to take back every word she has just spoken.

“N-No… I haven’t been to any sorts of parties, in fact.”

  
“Ah… well, what do you have down so far?” Hilda watched as Marianne nervously shuffled her way into the middle of this haphazard circle, a worried, puppy dog-esque whimper on her face, as if she was asking Hilda just one last time to be exempt from potentially humiliating herself. After a deep breath, Marianne raised her hands, one holding a non-existent shoulder, and the other holding their hand. She watched as the girl twirled around with shaky, yet graceful steps, all the while humming herself a quiet melody to keep time with. And even with her disheveled hair and plain nightgown, Hilda looked at her classmate like at that very moment, this spinning was what made her world go round. Hilda didn’t know whether it was the gentle, calming melody that Marianne sang, or the graceful swinging of hips, but there was a newfound sense that she had never experienced before;

A bubbling jealousy over any man who might dance with her at the Garreg Mach ball.

“P-Please, be mean if you have to; I know that there were plenty of mistakes that I made…”

“H-Huh?” Hilda had been so entranced by Marianne’s grace that the very thought of focusing on paltry things such as missteps or her form did not even cross her mind. Alois or Manuela be damned; Marianne was, as far as she knew, the most entrancing dancer that she had ever seen. She shook her head vehemently, her pigtails swinging back and forth, “you were _ so _ good! I’ve, uh, been to my fair share of dances and just… _ wow. _”

“Y-You’re just saying that to lessen the blow to my confidence, aren’t you…”

“I’m not! You, like, looked so elegant and beautiful; you’d put any other girl here to shame.”

Marianne brought her hands towards her head, doing her best to hide herself away as she blushed at Hilda’s praise. “R-Really?”

_ A simple compliment really can’t get to this girl, huh… _ Making her way forwards, Hilda grabbed both of Marianne’s wrists, tugging them down a bit, just far enough to see her eyes. _ If lofty compliments won’t cut it, then maybe something more forward will be convincing! Goddess Hilda, you’re so smart~! _

“I, Hilda of House Goneril, think that your dancing is simply beautiful!” And from the hands that held Marianne’s arms aloft, Hilda see the shy girl’s eyes widen in a sort of panic. Bracing herself for what she presumed to be Marianne on the verge of tears, Hilda released her grip, expecting to hear the sound of muffled sobs. What she saw though was nothing of the sort; Marianne’s face turned away, and the girl had squatted down to the floor, attempting to hide herself away.

“Oh geez… I’m sorry Marianne--”

“N-No! I’m OK…” the girl shakily responded,

“It’s just… I… a woman has never held me in that sort of way before.”

_ Oh. _ ** _Oh. OH._ **

Hilda nervously chuckled. _ Sothis above, please help, for I have fallen for a maiden… _ “Hahaha, s-sorry about that!” Hilda laughed as she ran through her seldom-used mind for any sort of excuse, “that’s just, uh, a thing that my family does! For good luck!”

Silence was brought back to Marianne’s dorm while the two say in undistilled embarrassment over the things that had just transpired. Even Hilda, who could talk another person’s ear off without hesitation struggled to even put together anything to say. It was selfish, and almost wrong to admit, but knowing that she was the first time a girl hand held Marianne… it was a sweet victory, albeit a different kind of victory than that of the battlefield. Her fear of Marianne potentially crying was swept aside as the girl stood back up again and straightened out her dress; her face tinged but not tear-soaked.

“I-If you’d like, I can like, still give you some tips on dancing,” Hilda exclaimed, breaking the building tension.

“T-That would be lovely.”

_ No, _ ** _you’re_ ** _ lovely. _“Alllrighty~ Then just let ol’ Hilda take care of you!” Truth be told, Hilda was currently scouring her brain for any bits of info she had memorized from the few dance classes she had actually paid attention to all those years ago. “One thing you were doing right was keeping both your feet on the floor at all times; that’ll make your movements more flow-y and elegant...y.” 

“G-Got it.” Righting herself back up into her starting position, Marianne began to run through the steps of her dance, her movements a bit more awkward and staggered now that she was paying attention to the way her feet moved. Hilda shook her head and held her hand out, stopping Marianne in place.

“No no, the way you were moving before is fine,” Hilda explained, “and I think your stance is a bit too slouched; shame, since you have such a nice figure.” Holding her hands out gently, Hilda pressed a hand to Marianne’s lower back, gently pushing as a sign for her to straighten up. And while Marianne stood up as straight as a board, her sudden movement was met with a quiet ‘eep!’ at Hilda’s touch. “S-Sorry should have warned ya…”

“N-No! I’m alright, it was good--” Marianne stammered, her poor heart beating out of her chest from Hilda’s accidental advances, “I-I mean, it was… um… it was useful advice! Y-Yes.”

“G-Great! I’m _ such _ a good teacher, aren’t I?” Hilda joked as she stepped back and away. In truth, it would have been better for her to stand close to make sure that Marianne’s posture was correct, but she didn’t know if her heart could take another cute noise or slip-up. SHE’S _ SO FUCKING CUTE!!! _ “And remember, make sure that you’re gliding on the floor; not stepping, OK?” she advised, giving Marianne a confident nod, “let’s go one more time!”

Taking a step back, Hilda waited patiently admire Marianne's dancing. But as moments turned to minutes, Marianne would simply not budge. "Is there, like, something wrong Marianne?"

"Ah-- umm… I don't know how to put this," Marianne stammered, hands trembling as she tried to force words out, "but I don't know how my hands should be, and

I wanted to ask if you'd dance with me, just once."

Hilda stood, mouth agape, in stunned silence (a tremendous feat for the daughter of House Gonreil). Taking her surprise as some form of disgust, Marianne's hands shot out, head bent in remorse.

"Oh-- I-It's OK, you didn't need to accept (in hushed whispers goddess forgive my transgressions), I'm deeply sorry for requesting such a task from you; you're free to leave, if you wa--"

"I'll dance with you, Marianne."

And as Hilda stepped forwards, her smile was nothing that Marianne had never seen before. She had seen Hilda smile, sure; having a good laugh with Claude, sharing fashion trends with Dorothea,

But nothing like this.

With a surprising amount of grace, Hilda took Marianne's outstretched hands. One hand intertwined their fingers and clasped them together, sending sparks to Marianne's poor stressed out mind, while the other hand was guided towards her surprisingly tones shoulder. _ She does lug that ax of hers around all the time… _

And then Hilda began to speak. "When you're visualising your dance, your hand needs to be up here, like a fair lady holding her lovely knight's shoulder," Hilda began as she pressed Marianne's hand down against taut muscles, "while your knight's hand rests against his fair lady's hip." 

And even with her warning, Marianne let out a surprised yelp as she felt soft, fingers wrap around her waist. She had never been held in such a way; so tenderly, so carefully, like she was the world's most precious piece of china. The way their hands held like they belonged together, the way in which the hand around her waist was more 'home' than the Edmund Estate ever was. And looking up, she saw it again; that smile, that gorgeous smile. It was almost too bright not to stare at, like a sapphic moth drawn to a beautiful flame.

And with one last confirming nod, the two began to dance. The White Heron Cup’s dance was but a simple waltz; a dance with only a few steps. The steps were awkward to start; with Marianne not used to the feeling of another dancer before her. But after a while,

Everything seemed perfect.

This simple waltz at the dead of night, dressed in nightgowns, with only accompanying music being the beating of each other's hearts as their feet glided across the dormitories stone floors,

This was a true masterpiece.

And both of them could feel it too. Even Hilda, who was usually no stranger to trivial things such as embraces or the holding of hands, knew that there was some wordless connection that was amidst the two of them at that given moment. Marianne might have just passed it off as the will of the Goddess, compelling her to move her feet across the stone floor. But to Hilda, this was more than just a dance in the physical sense; there was a dance that stirred inside of her, throwing her conflicting feelings of affection into an underhand turn that very nearly swept her off her feet. And after only a few measures of hummed music, Marianne had finished her practiced dance, leaving Hilda in a hazy state, unsure of what had just transpired.

“-- and thank you again for dancing with me, Hilda.”

“I-It was, um, no problem! Like I said earlier, you’re a _ really good dancer _,” Hilda began, her heat beating loudly as she tried in vain to calm herself down after everything that had transpired “like, gosh, I bet you’ll win the White Heron Cup for sure!”

Marianne cracked a rare smile (making Hilda’s heart race even faster) as she let go of Hilda’s hands. “I hope so too… with your help, I’m a lot more confident.”

“O-Of course! A gal’s gotta be there for her friends, aha…” And for seemingly the first time in her life, Hilda was at a loss of words. Everything just happened so fast; minutes ago she was annoyed at Marianne’s abundance of noise, and now she just couldn’t take her eyes off of her roommate. “Wooow, it sure is getting late, I, should be, like, getting to my room! Beauty sleep and all that!”

“Y-Yes! You should; I’m sorry for keeping you here so late, I shouldn’t have asked for that second dance…”

“No, no! It was my pleasure; can’t wait to see you tear up the dance floor!”

Giving Marianne one last wave behind her back, Hilda made a hasty exit, nearly tripping down the small flight of stairs leading to her room. And as soon as she crossed the threshold, Hilda leaped into her downy bed, making sure her face was sufficiently covered by pillow before screaming in pent up embarrassment.

\---

Feeling the light of sunrise make its way across her eyes, Marianne stirred as she willed herself awake. An especially arduous task this morning, considering her soreness from last night’s impromptu dance lesson. Throwing her covers to the side, Marianne swung herself out of bed and blindly kicked her legs around in attempt to find her slippers. After a few successful kicks and a shawl thrown around her shoulders, she quickly got up (knowing that if she let herself stay any longer, she would be prey to her bed’s comforting evils) and set off to freshen up after a good night’s rest. But as she stepped out of her door, Marianne felt her foot kick something unfamiliar, and with morning crust-ladend eyes, she could see that there was a small, lumpy package sitting at her doorstep. It was plainly wrapped with a heavy piece of parchment, and tied together with a baby blue ribbon, with her name scrawled on paper in messy ink.

Looking back and forth across the hall, Marianne checked to make sure she wasn’t the prey in someone’s sick prank, before taking the package and hiding away into her room. Setting the box down, Marianne gently untied the ribbon and gingerly ripped apart the paper, finding inside of it a piece of white fabric, and a hastily written letter.

_ Dear Marianne, _

_ Seeing as you will be participating as our house’s representative for the White Heron Cup, I saw it fit to give you an accessory to wear in order to capture your grace and beauty. _

\- __A Twin-tailed Admirer__

Setting the letter to the side, Marianne gingerly took the white chiffon from the package, marveling at its quality, noticing that underneath was what she presumed to be a button, as well as another piece of parchment.

_ P.S. This is supposed to be worn around your waist; use the pin to make sure its secure! I thought the design would be to your liking! _

And sure enough, as Marianne picked the button up and more closely inspected, she noticed that this bronze-brushed belt fastener was emblazoned with the symbol of a horseshoe; her anonymous admirer obviously knowing of her affinity for horses.

_ I originally took this fabric from an unused veil for a client with an unsuccessful suitor, but if your feelings align with mine, _

_ maybe we might restore this fabric’s original use, together~ _


End file.
